Details of composer Jeajoon Ryu’s biography are sparse and hard to come by. Born in 1970, he began his advanced musical studies in Seoul, but received a Ph.D. from the Music Academy in Krakow, and studied with Krzysztof Penderecki—which likely accounts for the massed Polish forces performing his scores here. Moreover, while one might associate the title Sinfonia da Requiem foremost with Benjamin Britten, it’s understandable that the dark sonorities, pulsing rhythm, and swirling counter figures that introduce the Requiem, the tumultuous passages of the Offertorio, and the frightening intensity of the Sanctus are more reminiscent of moods found in Penderecki’s Paradise Lost and his own sacred compositions than anything in Britten’s work. But, in any case, the music is never derivative, and Ryu offers several distinctive touches of his own, such as the Requiem’s interlude for flutes and oboes, and the soprano’s melodic contour soaring above the chorus in the Dies irae. There’s plenty of fire and brimstone in Ryu’s music, which is more Requiem than Sinfonia, and his passion and sincerity are obvious. Yet, I find it a bit curious that Ryu chose a form of the Mass as, in his own words, “a tribute to those who have devoted themselves to the development of Korea and who strove for the great prosperity and international reputation of our country” following the devastation of the Korean War. Christianity did not begin to spread throughout Korea until the 19th century, and its practitioners were persecuted at least until the war divided the country in two—no doubt religious persecution continues in the North. But even in South Korea today, Christians are a minority group. Is there a subtext of pro-Christian protest in Ryu’s music? (Adding another layer of irony is the fact that Britten’s Sinfonia da Requiem was commissioned by the Japanese Government in 1940 as part of the celebration of the 2,600th anniversary of the Empire, but, though purely instrumental, was nevertheless rejected for its liturgical titles.) I wonder what the response to Ryu’s tribute may be in South Korea?

There’s no potential controversy to Ryu’s Violin Concerto (2006), the work that preceded the Sinfonia da Requiem, and that is cut from the same harmonic cloth—primarily post-Mahler chromaticism—though somewhat more conservative in its outlook. A single 20-minute movement, the concerto sets the determined violin against a sweeping orchestral background, beginning with some Sturm und Drang and growing more lyrical, although Ryu keeps a tight grip on his emotions. The performances of both works do justice to the composer’s vision.